


To Tell a Story, as if One has Lived It

by lynnthere_donethat



Series: The Tales of Three Brothers [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood, Emotional Hurt, Ghostbur, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Technoblade and Wilbur Soot are twins, broken family dynamics, forcing technoblade to feel emotions 2020, graphic descriptions of death, grieving character, sleepy bois inc- freeform, tubbo is adopted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:06:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27908701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lynnthere_donethat/pseuds/lynnthere_donethat
Summary: “Tommy, you just did a coup.” He stated, coldly. The tension between the two brothers was palpable as everyone kept glancing between the sides. ‘Talk about a fucked up family reunion.’ Techno thought to himself as he carried on. “You just did a hostile government takeover and then immediately instilled yourself as president. And then you gave it to your friend, but that’s still a tyrant, Tommy!” The pinkett shouted, waving the Netherite sword through the air.---As his words settled, gasps and murmurs of confusion arose. Even the guys on his side of the crevice glanced at Techno with confusion. Technoblade couldn’t help but feel the weight of Dream’s gaze in that mix, and something burned in his chest. Technoblade refocused on Tommy and he sighed. Setting his sword back into the dirt, Techno leaned back to Tommy. “Let me tell you a story Tommy.” Techno said.
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot
Series: The Tales of Three Brothers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2043667
Comments: 7
Kudos: 95





	To Tell a Story, as if One has Lived It

**Author's Note:**

> its sad time :D enjoy

“Do you think you’re a hero Tommy?” Techno shouted, his deep voice echoing across the crater where the Election had been held. The thrum and aftershocks of the explosions had left the survivors and victors hunkered close to the ground. As the last waves passed and the thundering explosions settled into nothingness, the pink haired male sneered, blood caked along the delicate fur lining on his cape. Narrowed red eyes honed in on the remaining forces of the new L’manburg cabinet. The disgusting thing that was the newest administration in the decrepit pit of L’manburg. His younger (adopted) brother Tubbo as President, his younger blood brother Tommy as his Vice President and their friend Quackity as the Secretary of State, with more to take up positions after the battles ended.

Tubbo was still tying the straps and buckles on haphazard pieces of armour before facing his brother, executor, and once ally, now enemy of the state. The young brunet leveled a crossbow at the older male, confusion alight in his blue eyes. Technoblade almost felt bad, for betraying and killing the teen. But what happened, has happened and nothing would change the past. The damage was done, anyways and that trust was gone. Pent up frustrations released after months of being used for his resources, and taken advantage of by everyone- the pig hybrid had enough. Lip curled into a sneer of defiance, Technoblade leveled his own crossbow at the new President elect. 

Tommy leveled a diamond sword at him as well, anger burning bright in his eyes and pent up anger and energy had twisted his youthful face into an ugly grimace as well. Their family of once peaceful people had grown apart to become war machines vying for power and destroying the oppressors they faced. Tommy stood tall, clad in Techno’s gift of enchanted Netherite armour, sky blue eyes narrowed at his brother, with a deadly serious glint. Quackity hovered nearby as well, the two teenagers’ close friend and ally spitting rapid fire questions, overwhelmed and anxious about what was happening. Admittedly, half of it was in Spanish- which did not help, as no one was able to translate quickly enough to answer him. 

To be fair- the male had every right to be confused. They had won the war, yet the TNT had been detonated. Wilbur, Technoblade, Tubbo and Tommy’s father had finally arrived to the server- only to murder his own son, in front of the entirety of DreamSMP. They had all watched agape as Wilbur’s body slumped into the form of Philza. White shirt bloomed red, and life had sunk from his face as Phil extracted a faintly glowing, diamond sword. 

The very same one Wilbur had been carrying during the battle, Technoblade had noted, eyes narrowing at the sight. His twin brother- dead. Phil then turned to face the crowd, his normally cheery face set into a grimace. Faint traces of blood evident on the green kimono the male wore. Technoblade tried to ignore that it was Wilbur’s blood staining the green cloth. Emphasis on “tried”, and he felt something break within his heart and soul. 

At Technoblade’s question, Tommy had exploded into rapid fire speech about how Techno didn’t need to do this. And that he didn’t have to continue down this path, and gazing wildly around at the country he had helped build. Techno rolled his eyes, and repeated his question once more- the words flying aimlessly as Phil began calling out to the survivors to steer clear of Techno, releasing his plans to the crowd. Techno barely caught the upswing of Dream’s head, as the masked male’s gaze locked onto Techno’s form. If Technoblade could see Dream’s face, he could envision the maniacal grin spreading across, and a wild look in his eyes. In actuality, he saw naught but the mask lifting slightly from the facial movements under said mask. Just black, unmoving pinpoints locked on in an ever unnerving grin.

The chaos that had exploded from the revelation caused Dream to beg to help, and Techno denied. 

“C’mon Techno! Let’s do this! You and me, right now. We can blow this whole place up.” The blond said, in a tone not dissimilar to Wilbur’s as he waxed poetically about the master plan of destroying his once home. And a small undertone of manic desperation. Techno forced his building grief down under lock and key, ignoring the burning of tears in his eyes at the similarities he was seeing with his brother. 

“No, not gonna happen. This is my thing, Dream.” The anarchist said, wildly shaking his head. The long ponytail whipped with the movements, as he turned to face the crowd that had begun to scatter. Clambering around the crater left behind, stumbling on loose rock and a couple falling into the crater itself. The ex-king sighed and shot off a warning rocket, watching as everyone froze, before they turned and gathered close to the leaders. Like sheep to wolves, Techno thought, rolling his eyes. 

“Do you think you’re a hero, Tommy? Is that what this is about?” Techno asked, swinging his beloved sword out, striking down and planting the blade into the soft dirt and leaning forward slightly. Laying his weight on the hilt of the sword, effectively burying the blade- Technoblade pulled out and ate a golden apple- the sickly sweet twang of the apple healing the lacerations from the explosion. 

“I- I just wanted L’manburg back.” The blond stammered, looking to his older brother with traces of fear. Traces that Tehcnoblade relished in. 

“You just wanted power.” Technoblade deadpanned, leveling Tommy with a knowing look. 

“It’s all I ever wanted.” Tommy said, stammering still. The blond had to be experiencing a lot of whiplash from the jarring fight, to this conversation now. Technoblade didn’t give the kid a chance to relax, however. Standing up a little straighter, Technoblade’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion at how the teen didn’t understand his actions in the slightest. The spitball of a kid, who was always ready to fight. Who had sported countless black eyes and broken noses in his youth to show for it. Techno had thought that Tommy had learned his actions have consequences, but apparently not. Abandoning his sword, Techno walked to the edge, wanting to wrangle Tommy and shake him until he understood what he just did. He barely abstained and instead leveled Tommy with a harsh statement.

“Tommy, you just did a coup.” He stated, coldly. The tension between the two brothers was palpable as everyone kept glancing between the sides. ‘ _ Talk about a fucked up family reunion.’ _ Techno thought to himself as he carried on. “You just did a hostile government takeover and then immediately instilled yourself as president. And then you gave it to your friend, but that’s still a tyrant, Tommy!” The pinkett shouted, waving the Netherite sword through the air. Clumps of dirt dropped from where he had yanked the blade out of the ground. He had convinced Wilbur to stray away from government, now if only he could show Tommy just how bad government was. He tried a secondary tactic, still holding his impulsive brother’s attention. Tubbo stood next to him, face slack and impassive. 

“But, the thing about this world, Tommy. The thing is that good things don't happen to heroes.” Technoblade said, using the same verbiage as he had after their fight in the pit. And Techno saw as Tommy’s face hardened at the wording, and he knew that the blond understood the meaning of his words. Knew the word choice was intentional.

As his words settled, gasps and murmurs of confusion arose. Even the guys on his side of the crevice glanced at Techno with confusion. Technoblade couldn’t help but feel the weight of Dream’s gaze in that mix, and something burned in his chest. Technoblade refocused on Tommy and he sighed. Setting his sword back into the dirt, Techno leaned back to Tommy. “Let me tell you a story Tommy.” Techno said. 

The confusion rose once more, but the crowd stayed quiet, unwilling to invoke the wrath of the powerful Technoblade and his new entourage. Techno could see the curiosity brewing as well, knowing his words had struck a chord with everyone. Perhaps it would be a wake up call to everyone. 

“Let me tell you a story. A story of a man called Theseus. His country, well his city state, technically was in danger. And he sent himself forward into enemy lines. He slayed the minotaur and saved his city.” Technoblade said, reciting the story from memory, and feeling that same flare burn through his chest as a memory floated idly into his head. He struck the memory away with a ferocity as he persevered with his lesson.

“Do you know what they did to him?” Techno asked, awaiting an answer, only to be met with silence. “They exiled him. He died, in disgrace, despised by his people. That’s what happens to heroes, Tommy.” Technoblade said, bitterness creeping into his voice. He saw that familiar green and white coloring of his father’s hat as he watched from the edge. His words hung like knives above necks, awaiting the fatal killing blow as everyone registered and comprehended what technoblade was implying. 

“But he saved everyone!” Tubbo said, confused. 

“The Greeks knew the score. But if you want to be a hero, Tommy, then that’s fine.” Techno said, pausing to take a quick swig of water. The armour began to grow heavier on his shoulders, but Technoblade pushed forward with his speech. “That’s fine.”

“Technoblade, don’t do this.” Tommy said, the fear in his eyes growing slightly more as he comprehended the story and its implications. To this moment, and to what it meant in Technoblade’s own life. Tommy may not have understood big words, but he did know that the story of Theseus had struck a nerve within his stoic older brother. So much, that it had stuck with him all these years. He heard the hidden implications in the story, and began to fear what that it had meant for him and L’manburg.

“Don’t do this Techno, don’t-” Phil said, coming closer. Apprehension and fear shined in his eyes. That diamond sword hung limply in his grasp and the older male was wearing some piecemeal armour that was probably lying around from the battle. Technoblade snarled angrily at the sight, his eyes flashing dangerously. His heart ached, and a tear slipped out. He turned away abruptly before anyone could see the single tear rolling down his cheek.

Technoblade turned from the crowd, staring at the two ominous soulsand bases. Roughly 6 feet tall, and 9 feet wide, they were imposing figures, and the ghastly faces within the sand perturbed most people. It didn’t take a genius to guess what those T-shaped bases were. Especially given the handful of skulls Technoblade now held, staring down at the cold, and hard gray skulls. 

“If you want to be a hero, Tommy…” He murmured, staring down at the empty black eye sockets of the skulls. 

“There’s no fucking way, there’s no fucking way….” Fundy murmured, edging away. The anthropomorphic fox’s ears were flattened against his head and the tail swished nervously. Tubbo watched as well, backing away until his foot slipped from the barely standing walkway above the crater. The brunet barely caught himself, before safely jumping across the ravine and standing away, crossbow loaded with arrows. 

“Do you want to be a hero Tommy? THEN DIE LIKE ONE!” Technoblade shouted as he whirled around after placing the withered skulls across the soul sand, and grinning madly as the Withers spawned in. His red cape flared dramatically in the spin, fluttering with the whipping air from the spawning methods. Behind Technoblade sat a pair of blue-gray, glowing and floating entities with three heads. Essentially a flying rib cage that housed three skulls, that fired explosives onto unsuspecting people. Techno grinned madly as he dashed away, taking the chance to get out of the corner he had backed himself into. The twin withers floated upwards before launching their attacks into the crowd below. Nether-made bombs flying around the area, as the assembled began to fire back at the withers, launching arrow after arrow. The already scarred grounds became more pocked and destroyed as the wither’s rained down on them. 

The battle did not last much longer, despite Techno’s attempts to stop people from killing the Withers. With the combined efforts of the survivors and Phil’s impeccable aim with a bow- the Withers were killed. But not together, as one fell far easier than the other, and Technoblade felt a searing pang in his heart. Similarities of his brother still echoed into the world around. Overwhelmed with emotions, Techno surrendered easily, but before he parted ways he issued a threatening warning.

“I’m going to kill everyone here, until there is no government. Am I understood?” He said, voice thick with barely concealed emotions. The heavy weight of his words tore into the assembled citizenry, and with a handful of fearful nods, the collective survivors had agreed. No governments around Technoblade. And with a parting look, the long haired ex-monarch departed from the battle grounds. Thin strands of pink hair fell out of the ponytail the male had worn. His cape torn asunder from the battles, and smoked from the explosions. Not that Technoblade seemed to care. Phil reached to see his son. Techno cast a look towards the elder blond and walked away, not a word said to his father. 

Weeks had passed since the war. Tubbo had enlisted Captain Puffy and Phil into aiding him in the rebuilding of L’Manburg. Tommy worked on rebuilding his supplies and the ghosts of Wilbur and Schlatt floated aimlessly, teasing and tormenting the others. Mainly teasing but Wilbur had relished in messing with Phil shortly afterwards. Yet very few had heard from Technoblade, the disgraced revolutionary had steered clear of SMP Major, and the surrounding area. Phil had reported that he had seen his son around his former base, but had not interacted with the man. Techno had moved his base of operations, and cleaned out the chests of his riches. The former base was just empty, and all the work that had gone into the base had been abandoned and left to rot. 

But where had Technoblade gone? Well, he sought out an old comfort, trekking far north from SMP Major, towards the frozen tundras of the northern areas. The pinket stumbled across a barely thriving village, and he found an abandoned home. Life with the villagers reminded him of his prior home, before DreamSMP and before the wars. When he resided as King of the Antarctic Empire, ruled solely by himself, with confidence and aid from his father in times of dire circumstances. Ruled with an iron fist, Technoblade had thought his sovereign citizens were happy, with their guaranteed safety and protection from his soldiers and yet unbeknownst to him- a coup was staged, and he was dethroned. 

Had anyone ever wondered why a king called himself an anarchist. Wouldn’t anyone else in his position do the same. Beloved and happily ruling one day, to being cuffed and sentenced to exile the next? Cast out from his own citizenry, doomed to a terrible death should he ever step foot in the kingdom again. He moved to take over Hypixia, before his brothers called for aide- hence how he still kept the title of King, while having no land to reign over. A title he had probably lost in his time away, but he could no longer escape this cursed cycle of his. Destined to rule lands only for said land to be violently taken away from him, leaving him homeless, broke and broken.

What hurt most was that this was his own brothers and family. And now one of them was gone. Killed for his hubris. His twin brother, identical even. Since they were born, until Tommy came into the picture and never could tell them apart. Techno opted to dye his hair, to differentiate between them, though they still got confused for each other. It didn’t happen as often after Techno changed his hair, but occasionally it did.

“Not anymore. Cause someone had to go and die!” Techno scowled, hot tears rolling down his face. He hadn’t registered that he had spoken out loud until an icy presence made itself known on his shoulder. Tensing, Technoblade whirled into a defensive stance, before seeing a ghost. Literally. 

There, sat floating maybe three to four inches off the ground with his brother. Soft brown eyes, crinkled into a bright smile. No longer wearing that filthy and tattered brown trench coat, now donning his signature yellow sweater. 

“Wilbur.” He whispered, eyes wide and jaw dropped.

“Hey Technoblade! How are you?!” Came the cheery, yet raspy voice. His voice was slightly higher pitched now, and warbled every so often, as a bright and cheery smile greeted the grieving Technoblade.

“You’re not real. You can’t be real.” Technoblade said, voice thick with agonizing pain. His twin, his other half was gone and this is how the universe treated him? With a mocking caricature of Wilbur. Down to the wild and tumbling curls, to the dimples of his cheeks and his glasses.

“Am I not? I thought I was real, everyone else can see me.” Said the mocking ghost. The cheery smile had dropped into a comical frown, puzzlement alight on the distorted and grayed features. His head tilted, not unlike a confused puppy dog, eyes wide in befuddlement.

“No, you can’t be real. Dad killed you, Wil. You’re fucking  _ dead _ .” Techno swore, tears steadily dripping from pained red eyes. The ghost looked down at himself, but worry overtook the puzzlement at the sight of tears. Ghostly hands reached out to cradle Techno’s face, hurt flashing as Technoblade recoiled away, wrapping his arms around himself, mistrust plainly written across his face.

“I am dead! I’m a ghost now Tech, but don’t cry! I’m still here and I’m still your twin.” Wilbur tried, hands held out for Technoblade, his expression melting into the saddest puppy dog face that gave Tommy a run for his money. 

“How can you be my twin when we no longer age together, Wil? How, when you are permanently stuck at this age, while I grow older and older.” Techno bemoaned, gazing at the translucent face- permanently youthful. 

“Because we are bonded. So long as people remember me, I still exist, is that not what we agreed upon in our youth. To stay side by side, till death do us part?” Wilbur asked, crouching down to meet Techno’s gaze. Wilbur clicked as he cupped Techno’s cheek, and pressed a brotherly, and icy cold kiss to the crown of his head. He had always been more fluid in his emotional expressions, unafraid of holding hands with his brothers, or reaffirming his love for them. Meanwhile Technoblade found himself choking on words, choosing to give his silent support, offering training to Tommy and Tubbo when they could reasonably hold swords, acting as a shoulder for his brothers to lean on. 

So he sat, tears leaking from broken eyes, staring his brother down- allowing the pent up frustrations to evaporate into the once-pristine collar of his shirt. And he sobbed, until he could no longer sob, instead hiccupping. And Wilbur sat there, floating inches above the ground, consoling his brother through soft murmurs and words of affection, his icy cold hands petting through Techno’s unruly hair. The silken strands tangled and matted from days of neglect as Technoblade threw himself into his isolation. 

The brothers sat, united yet divided. Relishing in age old comforts, yet with roles reversed. An icy cold presence wrapped around Techno, playing with his hair- delicately untangling the strands with care. 

And once Techno had fallen asleep, exhausted from crying- that icy presence faded with a whispered promise. 

_ “I’ll see you again soon, my twin”. _

(._.)(._.)(._.)(._.)(._.)(._.)(._.)(._.)(._.)(._.)

_ “He won’t answer you.” _

“I know, Wil. I still have to try.” 

_ “Why? He left for a reason, and Tech has never been one for reaching out.” _

“He will this time, I’ll make him. You didn’t see him Wil.” 

_ “And who do I have to thank for that?” _

“Yourself. Now fuck off and annoy someone else.” 

Phil trekked, and sent whisper after whisper into the wind, begging for a response. The icy presence of his deceased son had left after his snappy remark, and Phil pulled his traveling cloak tighter around himself. He regretted his harsh wording, but he did not need a distraction right now, and that’s all Wilbur has been since he reappeared as a ghost. Aimlessly taunting and teasing the citizenry. He continued to glance down at his communicator with every buzz, only for the disappointment to grow as he never got what he wanted. Every server wide message received sent sparks of loneliness and pain into his heart. It was a day and half until he got one back after his last message. 

_ You whisper to Technoblade: son, please. Are you safe?  _

_ Technoblade whispered to You: yes. Let me be dad.  _

Phil gulped, but he nodded despite being alone. He stopped and turned to leave, but froze as he turned to leave and saw his son standing there, communicator open. His pack was stuffed full of supplies, but what Phil noticed was his face. Heavy, dark purple bags hung from his eyes, and the mask of impassive nonchalance was cracked and fractured. Phil paused, and a sad smile floated to his face.

“You’re safe, huh?” He said, echoing the conversation he and Wilbur had prior to the explosions. 

“Nobody has seen me, except you. And Captain Puffy, I’d say that means I’m safe.” Technoblade said, hiking the bag higher onto his shoulder. A hand rested on the strap loosely, as the other carded itself through long and wild hair, unkempt. Evidence that Phil filed away as a white lie Techno was using to convince him to leave. 

“Safety is relative. You look like shit, Tech. Usually, when I call to check in, you answer me. What happened to change that?” Phil asked, hurt coating his words. He knew that Techno was very particular to his appearance- given his status as King, he had an image to keep. And this wild, unkempt mane of hair was such a stark contrast to his usual appearance. 

“You killed my brother, Dad. When someone kills their own flesh and blood, how could I possibly feel safe?” Techno said coldly, a harsh glare in his red eyes. Phil noticed how his hand tightened on the strap of his pack. 

“I did it to protect everyone. He begged me to kill him, Tech. I love you all! Killing Will killed me inside.” Phil pleaded, trying to plead with his son.

“I’m sure it did, Phil. I’m sure it did.” Technoblade said, and stalked away.

_ A frozen wasteland, home to a select few brave enough to endure the bitter cold. Antarctica was not made for the faint of heart, between the collosal glaciers, ridged mountains, not to mention the constant threat of ice and frozen depths keeping the continent afloat.  _

_ In the heart of the continent sat the Antarctic Empire, surrounded by the Arctic Peaks- the empire was buried underneath the snow and ice within the cavernous stronghold below the surface.  _

_ A rebuilt rail system carted the citizens around the buried empire, sea lights casting a haunting light throughout the city. Torches and lanterns littered broke the crystalline blue lighting up, and allowed for some warmth against the constant icy breezes tunneling through the opening. In the heart of the stronghold sat the palace. A beautifully stunning sculpture of terracotta, ice and cobblestone rose from the depths of the caves. Home to the king of the empire, a merciless hunter who founded the frozen country. His strategic mind and comfort in the heart of war built a formidable army- keeping the empire safe from invasions hoping to leech the wealthy king of his riches. Few of the citizenry knew what the king looked like- but his name echoed throughout the hushed whispers.  _

_ Technoblade.  _

_ A god amongst men. Extremely skilled in most aspects of combat, and excelled in farming. He engineered a brand new and totally unique way of farming, suitable for the desolate place of his home. A river of lava flowed deep under the ice, the thick permafrost keeping the continent from melting, but the warmth radiating allowed for the crops to grow well enough.  _

_ Life wasn’t easy, of course not. Not in the heart of Antarctica, hundreds of feet under the surface, with only artificial light and the warmth of the campfires. Sure, they may not be war torn and struggling to survive because their government was corrupt. But it was difficult. And perhaps that feeling of being trapped was what caused them to snap. Only a railway to get to the surface, and yet- they still weren’t free. Stranded in the middle of the winter version of a desert, with no means to escape.  _

_ Whispers among a select few, scoffed as being deranged became secret meetings, hidden codes and eventually a siege on the palace. They overthrew King Technoblade. A slender man, once they saw him. A thick, woolen cloak stained royal blue, with the Antarctic Empire’s flag stitched in white. Long pink hair braided behind him, with the crown and wearing a tusked boar’s skull as a mask- hiding his face from the citizens. He went with a small fight, but was quickly outmatched. Him, and his royal advisor were kicked out of the country and with that- King Technoblade’s rule ended, not with a band but a whimper.  _

_ Perhaps that’s why the Theseus story had stuck with him, years after the EarthSMP had been disbanded and locked from the central hub of Mineland. A man who had done what he thought was best for his country, and protected them from the evils of the world, only to be cast away, shunned and demonized for the rest of his life. Died in disgrace. Much like Technoblade’s kingship.  _

_ So when faced with a haunting sense of deja vu, he had told a story in an effort to prevent history from repeating. As he had lived the story once before.  _

**Author's Note:**

> THIS FIC we coded it, so that war movie Saving Private Ryan was revamped to be reminiscent of the Sleepy Bois Inc found family dynamic. Also- according to AO3 statistics, none of you edgy bastards are sad enough to torture yourselves with angst, which is a crime. If you do read it, please consider leaving a kudos and maybe a comment. It’s completely free and you can never take it back. Enjoy the angst.
> 
> But seriously- i do read all your comments and do my best to reply to them in a timely manner! They help motivate me to continue posting these stories! I hope you all liked the story!  
> Feel free to yell at me on Tumblr at my-lamanburg-my-lmanburg.tumblr.com


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